Epilogue Knox
This was not my first life.
When I woke up, nothing made sense. The last thing I remembered was the harsh glare of hospital lights. The room had smelled of antiseptic and decay, my body failing, shutting down piece by piece while doctors fumbled for answers.
Now, when I opened my eyes, the ceiling above me was unfamiliar. The room smelled clean. The sheets were soft, tangled around my waist.
And then there was the woman beside me.
Apple.
She was asleep, her face turned slightly toward me, her breathing slow and even. For a few seconds I just stared, my mind refusing to catch up with what my eyes were seeing.
She looked… young.
Not the woman I remembered. Not the one who had stood beside my deathbed, calm and cold, and confessed that she had poisoned me. How she had killed my dog.
I pushed myself out of bed, my pulse picking up as a strange unease crept in. My legs felt stronger. My body felt lighter. Something was wrong.
The mirror confirmed it.
I stared at my reflection, my breath catching in my throat. I was not the man who had died. Not in my fifties, worn down by years of stress and regret.
I was younger. Healthier. Back in my prime.
“What the hell…”
The words came out under my breath as I dragged a hand over my face. This was impossible.
I turned toward the window and walked over, pulling the curtain aside.
The New York skyline glowed against the morning light.
That was when things started to click into place.
Slowly, piece by piece.
I found my phone on the nightstand and scrolled through it. Messages, notifications, timestamps. After a few minutes, everything clicked into place.
Somehow, I had been reborn. Sent back in time.
I was in New York for a conference, and the night before I had run into Apple at a nightclub.
Apple wasn’t a stranger. Years earlier, we had met a few times and hooked up.
Back then I had recently retired from the NFL because of an injury.
Still famous. Still wealthy. Still very much a public figure.
I was in my “what now” phase, drifting between cities, investing, partying, trying out ventures.
Those hookups ended when I started building Sinclair Enterprises and moved to Chicago.
I hadn’t seen Apple in years, but last night we met again, one thing led to another, and we ended up in this hotel room.
And now this.
I looked back at her.
Knowing what I knew now, there was no way that meeting had been a coincidence.
A bitter thought surfaced.
Why couldn’t I have come back twelve hours earlier?
Before we slept together. Before I tangled myself with that viper again.
My jaw tightened as I moved quickly, scanning the room until I found the trash can. I dug through it without hesitation, ignoring the mess until I found what I was looking for.
The condom. Used. Tied off.
My stomach twisted. I grabbed it, walked straight into the bathroom, and flushed it.
When I turned back, Apple had woken up. She was sitting up in bed, hair messy, watching me, her expression unreadable.
“Morning,” she said softly.
“Morning.”
She stretched, the sheets slipping as she leaned back against the headboard. “Last night was… fun.”
“Yeah.”
A small smile curved her lips. “I missed you, you know.”
I didn’t respond.
“I’m actually free today,” she went on, like it didn’t matter. “No plans. Thought maybe we could meet up again. Dinner, drinks… see where it goes.”
I searched for my clothes.
“No.” The word came out flat.
She paused for a fraction of a second, then recovered smoothly. “Maybe later then. I’m in the city for a few days.”
“I have other plans.”
She let out a soft laugh, trying to keep things light. “You don’t have to act like a stranger, Knox.” Her voice dipped, turning suggestive. “Last night was… hot.”
I didn’t answer. I grabbed my things and headed for the bathroom again. There was no way I was stepping on the same rake twice.
I took a shower immediately after, scrubbing at my skin harder than necessary. I felt dirty and not just physically.
When I stepped out, I didn’t look at her again. I left and headed straight for the conference downstairs.
At first, I barely paid attention. My mind was still in turmoil, trying to make sense of what had happened in the last hour.
Until she walked on stage. Something about her presence pulled me in immediately. I couldn’t look away. She was giving a presentation on behalf of her employer, Hawthorne & Vale. I was mesmerized by her beauty, the way she carried herself, how intelligently she spoke.
When the host thanked her at the end and said her name again, it hit me like a punch to the chest.
Ashley Richards.
A memory surfaced, sharp and immediate. Apple had a sister in my previous life.
A sister who went missing at twenty-two.
Apple had been with me for seventeen years and never once had Ashley been found or accounted for.
Apple hated her. She used to say she was glad Ashley was gone, that she deserved whatever had happened to her.
At the time, I had ignored it. Filed it away as just another ugly part of who Apple was.
Now watching Ashley alive, standing on that stage, I felt something shift.
The moment I returned to Chicago, I started digging into her background. Who she was. Where she worked. Her background. Her habits.
And then I started planning.
Six months later, Ashley Richards was working for me.
In my previous life, that never happened.
I never met Ashley.
In my previous life I went back to Chicago as usual. My life continued the same way it always had. I had one-night stands with different women, and a few months later Apple reappeared. She always managed to be where I was, always came over to talk. If nothing better was available, we hooked up.
When she told me she was pregnant, I didn’t believe her. I always used protection. Always.
I had no interest in settling down and no feelings for her. But the DNA test came back positive. Apple was carrying my child. Condoms aren’t perfect, so I assumed it was an unfortunate failure.
It happens.
My father had left my mother when I was a small child, and I had watched her struggle. I didn’t want that for my kid, so I married Apple for the sake of the baby.
The biggest mistake of my life.
Even before the wedding, something felt off. Titan never liked her.
He was trained, disciplined, never reactive without reason, but around Apple he would go still, his body rigid, a low warning rumble building in his chest, his eyes tracking her like he was waiting for something.
Apple hated him for it. Called him aggressive. Unpredictable. Said he made her uncomfortable. The feeling was mutual.
I should have trusted him.
After the wedding, she moved into the penthouse, and a week later Titan got sick.
It came out of nowhere. One day he was fine, the next he wouldn’t eat, then he could barely stand.
I had him at the best veterinary clinic in the city within hours.
Specialists, tests, everything money could buy.
They found nothing. No clear cause. No explanation.
Just a rapid decline none of them could stop.
He died three days later.
I had him since he was a pup. Raised him. Trained him. Trusted him more than most people. Losing him felt like losing a part of myself. I remember standing in that sterile room after they told me it was over, my hand still resting on his head, waiting for him to move. He didn’t.
And Apple…
She cried. Loud. Dramatic. Made a show of it. But she never went near him while he was sick. Never touched him. I asked her once if she had done something. Her reaction was explosive. Tears, accusations, outrage. How could I even think that.
There was no proof, nothing I could point to, and she was carrying my child, so I let it go.
Looking back, that was the point where I should have started paying more attention. But I didn’t.
We had an ironclad prenup in place before the wedding. At the time, it felt like a precaution. Something clean. Controlled.
It didn’t matter.
Apple couldn’t keep up the act for long. The delicate flower she pretended to be turned out to be a vicious carnivorous plant.
Still, I tried to make it work, especially after my son was born. For a while, it did. I ignored what I didn’t want to see. Let her spend my money like it had no limit, told myself it was easier that way.
But when she wasn’t pretending to be someone else, she was unbearable.
So I stopped being around her. Spent more time at work. Told myself I was providing for them, giving them a comfortable life.
Another mistake.
I let Apple raise my son almost entirely on her own because I was always working, avoiding her. But by avoiding her, I avoided Aron too.
I don’t know when it happened, but over the years my sweet little boy, the one who used to toddle toward me when I came home, turned into a bitter, self-centered kid.
When I finally noticed, I tried to be more present. He was my son, my flesh and blood. I couldn’t give up on him. I dug my heels in and tried, but it was too late. He had become a copy of his mother. Self-centered, entitled, cruel.
Instead of nurturing him, she had molded him into a replica of herself, something I didn’t recognize until it was too late.
I know now I handled everything wrong.
For the first few years I was faithful to Apple. I didn’t love her, but we were married and had a child. I tried to do the right thing.
Then I walked in on her with her yoga instructor, and our marriage was effectively over. We continued living together, but I never touched her again.
Apple became bolder with her affairs. She stayed discreet in public, wanting to maintain the illusion of a happy marriage, but at home and in front of our son she didn’t hold back. She tried to make me jealous, but I didn’t care.
Eventually I returned to discreet one-night stands when I needed an outlet.